


LAY IT DOWN

by thoughtsdemise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Domination-Submission, M/M, Mech/Mech, Proto-Bonding, Rough play, Slight Field Play, Slight Ticks of Confined Movement, Spark Play, War Story, hot and heavy, sex in public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9818681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/pseuds/thoughtsdemise
Summary: A hot and heavy moment on the battlefield.





	

Drift shoves Percy into a wall. The background noise of the battle fades out. The swordsmech's arms cage the gunner in. His exvents heavy, heater. Battle routines screamed through him to take what he needed from Perceptor and get back onto the battlefield. The sport's engine growled low and slow in a warning when the smirk touched Perceptor's lips.

"You didn't say please." Percy strokes black digits over his thick chest armor. "You know how this works, Drift." The free hand cups Drift's cheek. The scientist's helm bumps the swordmech's. He lowers the register of his vocal patterns. "You say 'pretty please, Percy, pretty please' then I make you scream until you break."

Vision blurred, the impact of Perceptor hitting against the wall again rings in Drift’s audios. He grinds the red/blue arms into the rusted metal beneath them. He shoves his chest into Perceptor’s and slides roughly against the surface. The tactile friction doing little else but ramping up the heat in his core and making him shudder in a painful bliss. His lips bury into Perceptor’s neck cables. The scientist snorts but allows this little misbehavior. His helm impacts the wall to allow Drift more access for his seeking glossa.

“Mmm, Drift. You’re such a naughty little mechling,” Percy arches up into the desperate rubs, “I’m going to have to re-educate you later, sweet-pet.”

All movement stops. The only sound between them is the turn of their cooling fans and the muted battle. A shiver ransacks the white frame. Lust and a driving need to submit rampages through the mech’s field and spark. Percy loosens his wrists from the light hold. Black digits calmly ghost up the white frame frozen at his word. He sighs as Drift’s frame arches at the touch along his spinal strut. The scientist presses into that special spot he trained to set the speedster alight with a damning need to overload. His touch turns brutal for a moment before his digits continue up and away from the pressure spot before Drift falls apart on him.

“Now, sweet-darling,” Percy whispers into an audio, “how do you ask lover for permission?”

Drift’s helm falls back as he melts against the turn of Perceptor’s engine. His own digits come up to knead at Perceptor’s chest, sliding over the invisible seam hiding the wanted treasure within. His exvents hitch, his vocalizer unable to communicate his desire. He was so close to falling. He pulls himself forward to press his head lovingly against that closed chest panel. Percy watches with a small smile.

“Yes, sweet-pet?”

Drift’s lips move but glyphs still fail him.

“Pretty please, Percy, pretty please,” the scientist supplies for him.

Drift’s helm is lifted to level his gaze with Perceptor’s.

Percy leans back and opens his chest compartment. The multiple layers slide over each other with a tantalizing grinding metal. Drift paws at Perceptor’s shoulder joints. His vents hitch again. The glow of Percy’s spark illuminates just the space between himself and Drift. Behind a black tinted encasement the spark whirls in response to the lust and excitement within Drift’s field. The sniper vents heavily to cool his charging systems.

“Now,” Percy rubs a thumb over Drift’s lips, “make me shiver.”

Drift leans forward to kiss the main line leading from the top of the spark compartment. He does well to hide his frustrations that the spark remains behind its glass case. He knows how to change that, however. The swordsmech runs the edge of his denta over the main line, being careful not to bite too deeply. His optics flick up to Perceptor’s as a pleased field curses his. The gunner’s shuttered optics make a mischievous smile crawl over Drift’s face.  He licks boldly over the center of the glass door. Perceptor does not disappoint as he curves his spine to push against the flat glossa.

“Naughty, boy!” Percy heaves and catches Drift’s helm finial in an iron grip. “You are not to touch the gla-“

Drift is already keyed onto Perceptor’s spark energies. His lips suck at the glass and his glossa leaves a streaked trail across its surface. The gunner bites his lips to keep from crying out; he refused to give his naughty little sweet-pet the satisfaction. He cannot hide the unsettled field, however, and Drift baths in its telling glory. He picks the sharpened edge of his glossa at the mechanism to open the spark chamber. It automatically responds to the familiar touch.

“Y-y-you’ve me play too much, lover?” Drift shoves his entire frame against Percy’s. White plates are trigger as the swordsmech consumes the gunner’s lips. Drift’s arm wrap about Percy’s shoulders. His spark chamber springs open at the nearness of his lover’s spark. “And play I will, lover.”

The two sparks touch and ignite. The battle ground falls away as the sparks concave about each other. Both giving way and surging forward to fill the gaps. It is a familiar dance between the two. Energy triggers both pleasure systems to heights of bless. Drift is, however, unsatisfied with only overload. He pushes brutishly deeper into the layers of Percy’s spark. The sniper feels him but does not stop him from this journey. Their emotions meld and are bared to each other. There is nowhere that they could hide. Drift’s spark yanks, and Percy’s spark answers.

Perceptor noiselessly calls out. Core layers breach and dissolve. The pain not existing overwhelms both mechs for a moment. Reality is a cruel mistress that slams them from the bliss of being one. Drift’s core melts about Percy’s core. He blankets the sniper protectively. Perceptor returns the gesture. The two nestle about each other as the battle rages about them.


End file.
